Go Faster Through The Darkness
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: Jason and Elizabeth meet for a clandestine night ride.


Prompt - Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk

** Go Faster Through The Darkness**

**Rated R**

The penthouse was as still as death.

Jason lay flat on his back, alone on the king-size mattress that was the site of many a lonely night. The curtains, as always, were thrown wide open and rigid blocks of moonlight fell upon the fluffy comforter he lay upon. The bright, pristine light would have been a convenient excuse for his insomnia, but the cause for his weary cognizance was far darker.

The radio was on in the bathroom. He always left it on at night – his psychiatrist told him that he was high-strung and needed the dull background noise to relax enough to sleep. Usually, it worked: the serious droning of the local newscasters as they discussed rising oil prices and the endless crime waves sweeping across Port Charles was gravely comforting but detached enough to help him slip off into a fitful slumber.

Tonight was different. Tonight was the first anniversary of the tragic hotel fire that had burned the beloved Port Charles Hotel and Grille down to the ground, killing fifty-three and injuring one-hundred-and-nineteen.

Their unborn child hadn't been on the list of the deceased. Neither did her lone hope for happiness in a dark, disparaged world appear on the official ledger.

His throat burned and Jason kept his eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. If he closed them, he would see Elizabeth's crumpled, weeping form blazed across the insides of his eyelids as she mourned the loss of her child – the child that no one knew existed except the two of them and the one doctor that promised not to say anything.

The newscasters were congratulating the sleeping and oblivious town of Port Charles on the successful rebuilding of the hotel; somehow, Jason doubted that he and Elizabeth would be that lucky.

It was supposed to get easier as the months passed. It was supposed to be easier, now that they no longer spent four nights a week together. It was supposed to be easier, but sometimes he felt like it was only getting harder. Every time he passed the new hotel, a horrendous, gaudy steel contraption with none of the class or grace of its predecessor; every time he saw her at a town function with her husband, the chief of police; every time they met under the cover of darkness, more careful now than they ever were before…every time, it got harder.

Harder to stay, harder still to leave.

She had told him that when they married, Lucky had told her that he didn't want children. The announcement had crushed her at first; a young, fertile, nurturing young woman who felt herself denied of fulfilling the deepest desire of her heart. But as the months passed, she came to think of it as a blessing. He knew she didn't want children with Lucky anymore; she had admitted, once and only once, under the cover of darkness and in the heat of the moment that he was the only man whose children she wished to bear.

And they had been robbed of even that. She never spoke of children again after her body absorbed the four-month old growth back into its warmth and expelled its lifeblood. It was over and done with, something she would never visit again not due to the fear of having it all but the fear of once again losing it all.

He never pushed her. One way or another, he never pushed her. Their situation was precarious enough as it was without him pressuring her or directing her life like the other man in her life. The wife of the Police Commissioner's right-hand man and the most notorious mobster on the East Coast – it was a union that could never see the light of day.

They burned on their own time. He knew everything about her, inside and out, and she returned the awareness. He caught her when she fell; she took his hand when he lost his way. It had always been that way, since they were children. He had been so in love with her once as a dirty, scrappy little boy but she had eyes for everything and anything but him.

That love had grown and matured along with him; she, too, had grown out of her frivolous, girlish ways and become a strong, resilient woman who for the first time understood not only his profound amorous intentions but also the dire ramifications.

Time had never been on their side, so they did the best they could. Sometimes it wasn't good enough and sometimes it was better than they could have hoped for. The death of their child had been one more fork in the road that threatened to separate them completely, but he couldn't quite let go of her hand. There was a constant fear of being with her – a fear for her safety and a fear for his own heart – but there was an even more pressing fear that dogged his every step, and that was of being adrift in the world without her to keep him afloat.

_"…One year has rolled by, folks, and we're as close to perfect as we're ever going to get. The hotel's seventy-fifth anniversary is rapidly approaching and the mayor has great plans to…"_

He let out a slow, strained breath, wanting to turn over on his side and drown out the noise of the infuriating broadcasters but not having the strength to do so. It was nights like these that he couldn't help but wonder what she were doing. If she was thinking about him…

The phone rang.

…He should have known better. After all, she knew him better than he knew himself.

It was close enough for him to reach without getting out of bed, and Jason noiselessly flipped the slim silver device open and held it to his ear, almost holding his breath in anticipation of her voice.

"M-Morgan."

_"Jason."_ The low, sultry voice he loved so much, husky and breathless now, warmed his cold heart the way only she could. _"Did I wake you?"_

"No."

_"You were awake?"_ She made a low sound as if swallowing laughter and he could hear the sheets rustle around her on the other end._ "Were you thinking about me?"_

The corner of his mouth twitched. "You know the answer to that."

_"All the time,"_ she repeated faithfully. He imagined her porcelain cheeks flushing a rosy pink at the familiar words that always passed between them. _"I…I want to see you."_

"I can be out the door in five minutes."

_"No."_ She cut him off quickly and Jason's brows furrowed at the resolution in her low voice. _"No. I'm coming. Meet me at the back, okay?"_

"We can take the bike, you know," he replied quietly, trying to change her mind. "We can go wherever you want."

_"Nice try,"_ she laughed quietly. _"But the answer's still no. Tonight, I'm driving."_

* * *

He hated her car the moment he saw it.

For reasons Jason couldn't quite explain, the 1955 midnight blue land yacht awakened in him primal feelings of resentment and unease. But he didn't say a word as he approached, his eyes trained on her slight frame in the darkness.

She sat at the wheel wearing snug black trousers and an oatmeal sweater over a white camisole. She had tied a black kerchief around her hair and he knew that if she were meeting him in daylight, she'd be wearing sunglasses. They disguised themselves the best they could whenever they met, and this was no different.

"Do you like it?" she smiled in his direction as he pulled the door open and got into the convertible. "It's a Caddy Deville."

"Good car," he answered honestly, referring more to the make and model than the specific vehicle in which he sat.

His unexplained feelings of unease were answered with the next bit of information she offered as they pulled out onto the road. "…Lucky got it for me."

The mention of her husband prompted a long moment of silence. They turned away from the main road and took a side road instead, avoiding the busiest part of downtown that still remained brightly lit even in the dead hours of the night.

"Let me drive."

Elizabeth grinned at that, more than familiar with his almost boyish urge to be in control at all times. "Sorry – no can do. Just get cozy right where you are, Morgan, because that's where you're staying."

He laughed to himself and stretched out on the bench seat. The inky black sky stretched out overhead, sprinkled with millions of tiny twinkling stars that guided them along to the country road they loved so much. Elizabeth sighed quietly with relief when they reached the familiar setting; there was something about the Cliff Road that always felt like home to her.

"...You sure it was okay to get out tonight?"

She nodded at Jason's hesitant question. "He's out of town. Left last night."

"When will he be back?"

"Not until the end of the week."

It was good enough for him. The farther he was away from Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior, the better for everyone concerned. And there wasn't a single person in town that didn't know that. The normal folks read reports every week of the PCPD's thwarted bust on elusive mobsters Sonny Corinthos and Jason Morgan – they knew that Lucky Spencer tried his best to drag his arch-nemesis' tail to jail whenever someone failed to pay a parking fine. If there was something illegal done in town, even jay-walking, the odds were good that a police officer was being sent to Harborview Towers with handcuffs in his pocket.

And that was nothing compared to Jason's own track record with the infuriating police chief. There had been that Nurse's Ball where the two of them had gotten into it right on the balcony; he'd cooled his heels all night in a holding cell for that before Justus managed to get him out. Then there was the time that they had nearly killed each other right in the PCPD; even Alexis couldn't use her finesse and grace to have him out in seventy-two hours.

It was no secret in Port Charles that Jason Morgan and Lucky Spencer hated each other professionally as well as personally. But no one knew the _real_ reason that Jason wanted the officer to die a slow, agonizing death and if he had anything to say about it, no one ever would.

It amazed him that a man as sharp as the police chief didn't realize that his own wife was sleeping with the enemy. But then again, Lucky didn't pay much attention to Elizabeth in general except when he needed her. She was the perfect trophy wife…except for when she found herself tangled up in bed with a known mob enforcer.

Jason glanced over at Elizabeth, catching the tail end of a smirk directed in his direction. Shaking his head, he scooted over across the leather seat until he was right next to her. The brunette smiled to herself and shifted, clutching the wheel with both hands, as she waited for him to slip his arm around her shoulders.

But Jason didn't move. Instead, he decided to simply bide his time.

"I meant to tell you," she started finally, her alluring eyes glued safely to the road. "Be sure to have an alibi – and several witnesses – on the night of the 27th."

His cerulean eyes slid dangerously toward the petite woman. "Elizabeth…"

The corner of the brunette's mouth twitched as she innocently shrugged her shoulders. "What? I hear it's going to be a good night – you don't want to spend it cooped up alone in your penthouse."

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, absently slinging an arm across the seat behind her. "Elizabeth, I've told you a thousand times, I don't want you endangering yourself to get me information-"

"I wasn't," she protested seriously, still looking directly ahead. "I just overheard Lucky taking a call from Rodriguez. They're going to come after you that night and you needed to know."

He sighed, his brief anger dissipating as the wind raked through his hair, and the little minx at his side directed a flirty sidelong glance in his direction.

"Besides," she continued, her voice lower now and more playful. "Can I help it if I want you to stay safe? I guess I'm just selfish that way."

"Guess so," he laughed quietly, moving his hand lower so that it was slung possessively around her waist as she drove. Still chuckling, Jason leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, letting his lips linger on the delicate shell of her ear. "You're gonna have to work on that."

"Seems like it," she pretended to agree seriously, her breath hitching in her throat when he nuzzled her neck just below her ear. "So…you been all right?"

Jason was already moving on to her neck, his other hand now resting suggestively on her upper thigh as he gently rubbed her through the cotton slacks. "Yeah, I've been doing just fine."

It was the game they played. At first, it wasn't a game; perhaps that was the sad part. No matter what either one of them did, there were still certain walls that they had erected between themselves. That situation had only worsened with the untimely death of their child. Even though they knew each other inside out, the distance remained. Sex was a way – their way – to chip those walls down and see the other naked, vulnerable. Real.

She gripped the wheel at nine and three as he marked her throat. "H-How's Sonny?"

Jason smiled against the flushed, sensitive skin at the sound of her squeak. "He's fine."

"A-And Brenda?"

"She's fine."

"Did they have a good time on their honeymoon?"

The enforcer chuckled at that. "People usually do."

She blushed, not sure if it was from his response or the delicious sensations he was creating in her body as they rushed down the country road. "O-Oh, yeah. Stupid question."

His large hand moved up from her thigh as the other skimmed a blazing trail up from her waist to her chest. Elizabeth moaned low in her throat and couldn't resist closing her eyes for a split second when Jason molded his hands to her modest breasts, squeezing them possessively.

"I love these."

She laughed, a scratchy and husky sound as the car raced down the straight, empty lane. "Yeah."

"I'm serious," he murmured, teasing her ear as he continued to rub her through the thin sweater. Her nipples were soon erect, as hard as pebbles between his practiced fingers. "They're perfect."

She bit her lip, her hands clutching the wheel so tightly now that her knuckles turned alabaster from the lack of circulation. "P-Perfect?"

"Mm-hmm."

"No, they're not." Elizabeth's voice was strained and slightly discouraged as he continued to fondle her lovingly. "They're too small. And not firm enough. A-And the scar…"

The dark red threads marring her perfect porcelain skin were the last thing he wanted to think about. Jason tugged on her earlobe as he molded her soft flesh to the inside of his rough palm, strumming her roughly with calloused fingers and making her arch up off the seat.

"They're not too small. They fit my hands just right…they always did."

She let out a soft breath, resting her cheek against his forehead.

"And they're soft, just like the rest of you. And that's good…especially when I'm hard."

Elizabeth had to laugh at that, and her amused chuckles were immediately whipped back by the insistent wind that raced past them.

"They're perfect."

Weak now, she turned her head toward him just for a moment, long enough to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. "I'm glad you think so."

"Pull over."

The raw, uncontrolled demand made her smirk. "I thought you wanted to drive."

"Oh, honey, I _intend_ to."

She laughed aloud at that, unable to do anything else as a familiar reckless feeling began to overcome her in the night. "Not _that_ way."

"Why not?" Jason nipped at her neck, scoring the sensitive skin with his teeth. "I thought you _liked_ it that way."

Her blood was singing through her veins as he continued to worship her body and the familiar surge of invincibility and recklessness was becoming too powerful to ignore. The corner of her mouth curled and she tipped her chin up into the wind.

"Fine – you want to drive? Drive."

"Jesus Christ-" Jason barely knew what to do when the brunette suddenly gave up the wheel and hopped into his lap, her arms already wound around his neck. He lunged for the steering wheel and guided the car –which she had left on cruise control – back into their own lane.

He shook his head as she laughed in his ear, pausing every so often to tug his earlobe between her teeth. "You could have killed us."

"Relax, Jason," she murmured, slipping off his lap and settling down comfortably on the leather seat. She kept one arm wrapped around his back and settled her other hand on his crotch as he drove. "There's no one else here but us."

Elizabeth pressed her face to his neck, inhaling his spicy, entirely masculine scent as she continued to rub him through his jeans. "Hm. You weren't kidding about being hard."

He gripped the wheel tightly, his cerulean eyes twinkling as he stared straight ahead. "Do I ever?"

She smiled and kissed his neck. Jason removed one hand from the wheel and brought it to rest high on her hip, holding the young woman close against him. He guided the car around the turn, settling comfortably into the stiff new leather as they approached the breathtaking cliffs.

"Look – company."

Elizabeth looked up in surprise at his voice and squinted at the smaller convertible on the road in front of them. "This late? Who's out now?"

"Us," he answered matter-of-factly, clicking off the cruise control and pressing down on the accelerator. "Let's go a little faster…"

She looked up at him in surprise. They were going fast enough. And she didn't altogether like the burning gleam in his unearthly eyes as he bore down on the unsuspecting motorist. "Jason…"

"Relax, it'll be fine."

Elizabeth removed her hand from his erection and used it instead to grip his shirt. Jason pressed the accelerator harder, and she wondered for a moment if her recklessness was proving contagious. They were on a narrow two-lane country highway as it was, and she already knew that he was going to attempt passing the slower vehicle along the sharp curves.

"Jason…"

"Sh." He gripped the wheel hard, pressing a soothing kiss to her forehead before turning sharply to the left. The other car veered to the right, perilously close to the guardrail, as Jason blazed on past, rounding the side of the mountain in the blink of an eye.

"Jason!"

Only at her terrified yell did he return to their own lane. But he kept his foot pressed down hard on the gas and the car zoomed off, leaving its victim in the dust. Elizabeth was breathing hard, plastered to his side, and that only made him go faster.

"Jason, please – slow down!"

She was in near tears by the time he finally let go of the gas and decelerated as they left the winding cliffs behind them, and Jason let out a gasp of air when the brunette abruptly punched him in the side.

"You could have killed us!"

He stomped on the brakes, guiding the behemoth of a car over under some weeping willow trees along the side of the road. She was already clutching at his shirt as he skidded to a stop on the gravel and threw up the parking brake, and then she was his.

Jason's mouth caught hers instantly, roughly. His large hands framed her face as she gasped for breath and then captured his mouth again. Slowly, he eased her down onto the shiny leather as she pulled his shirt out of his jeans.

The black kerchief around her hair was soon lost and the thick chestnut waves he loved so much spilled freely down her shoulders as he clenched his fingers in them. His shirt was flung over the steering wheel as Jason tore at her sweater and camisole and then reached for the snap of her trousers.

They made love passionately, awkwardly, quickly right there in the front seat of the car. It was easy enough to stroke her to an all-time high, and Jason gave in to the warm, wet bliss soon after. Their sweaty skin stuck to the new leather as they resituated themselves more comfortably but made no move to get up.

Elizabeth began to cry softly in the warm, dark cavern of his neck and Jason sighed, running his hand tenderly through her thick hair.

"That bad, huh?"

That got a chuckle from her, and the brunette's tears glowed in the moonlight as she braved a quick glance up at him. "Yeah, Jason, you were pretty terrible."

He waited a long moment and then let his lips whisper along the shell of her ear. "What is it, then?"

She swallowed roughly and shook her head, not trusting her own voice not to betray her. The crickets chirped around them, a cacophonous symphony of the night, and it was several minutes later that Elizabeth finally dared open her mouth.

"I didn't plan on seeing you…tonight. Tonight, of all nights. I-I didn't want to…" She shook her head after he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "But I couldn't…I didn't want to need you, Jason. Not tonight."

"_I_ needed you tonight," he admitted quietly, framing her in his strong arms as they listened to the quiet wind. "And I'm really glad you found me."

Fresh tears sprang in her eyes, clinging to the raven lashes and Elizabeth didn't say a word. It felt foolish sometimes. They hadn't even known their child. They had never held it. They had never heard its voice. They had never gazed into its eyes. And yet she felt its loss more acutely than anything else in her life.

She pressed her mouth to his, more to feel his warmth than be the object of his desire. He wrapped his large hand around her wrist, covering the small dark marks he had found there earlier after removing her long-sleeved sweater.

"Tell me he didn't do that to you."

There was no answer; only the crickets.

Jason growled low in his throat and pressed his face into her neck, inhaling her sweet feminine scent. He wasn't a man to base his life on plans and goals, but he knew one thing for sure: if their child had survived, neither the baby nor its mother would be living in that bastard's house.

"Elizabeth, let me take care of him."

A soft smile curled her lips even as she shook her head. She was familiar with his begging; the only time he ever begged in his life was when he wanted her safe.

"Let me at least scare him a little."

That made her chuckle. "Even if I tell you not to, will it stop you?"

Jason didn't answer. She knew him far too well by half, it seemed.

Elizabeth let out a soft sigh and raised her wrist, studying the small bruises in the pristine glow of the moon. "It's not that bad, really, Jason. You don't have to worry."

"Not that bad?" He hated those three words.

She shrugged despite herself. "He only grabbed my hand, never hit me around. It's really not that bad; he never means it."

He pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked directly down at her. "Not that bad? So every time you showed up crying on my doorstep, you were just making it up?"

She never knew how to respond to his sarcasm – especially when he was right. "No, I just…he loves me, Jason. In his own way…Lucky loves me."

"_I_ love you, Elizabeth."

A sad smile played upon her lips as she reached up and stroked his hair, threading her fingers in the thick sandy locks. "I know," she whispered as he leaned into her touch. "And sometimes, that's all that keeps me going."

**The End.**


End file.
